A few of those strange foreign birds spoke noisily. They were not like American birds; their speech, much like the speech of the people in the area, was completely different. Different tones, different notes, different songs. It was all so different here.
As Derek stepped down a small twig snapped and all birds grew silent.
“Hey, Tobane,” Sarge said, coming up from behind, “when you’re on point, you’re your buddies’ eyes. Don’t get them into trouble, now.”
“Sorry, sir, but we are in the middle of the woods. I gotta step down on something, and right now, all I have to work with is twigs. Twigs do snap, sir,” Tobane responded.
“Well, step softer,” Sarge said.
Tobane was in Vietnam for three months now. During that time, he was already transferred twice. His officers said he had a problem with authority. He said he was not going to listen to anyone whom he believed was likely to get him blown up.
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